


The Wrong (Color) Hoodie

by JoMcIntosh, modambrosia



Category: Underfell - Fandom, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Bar fights, Bara Red, Bodyswap, Cussing, Fighting, M/M, Panic Attacks, Shy Sans, Soulmates, Violence, bad ideas made while intoxicated, lack of cussing, red has so much anxiety, soul experiments, the papyri are assholes tbh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-19 11:40:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14873090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoMcIntosh/pseuds/JoMcIntosh, https://archiveofourown.org/users/modambrosia/pseuds/modambrosia
Summary: He took a few deep breaths, then switched over to text messages and typed in his number.Might as well get a gather on who could possibly be piloting his own body, if he was in this one.





	1. Chapter 1

Waking up was a process. First, Sans had to take a minute with his eyes closed to realize that the dream he had was just that--a dream. Then he spent the next ten minutes getting his eyes open to stare at the ceiling and actually wake up.

Of course, that was ruined when he had to instantly shut his eyes again with a low groan at the pounding in his head. Even the low light filtering in through the curtained window was enough to make the pain in his head spike.

The pain in his head, while nearly intolerable, wasn’t enough to shake the feeling that something was wrong. His voice was  _ way  _ too deep, even if it was heavy with sleep; and his bones were aching, as if they’d grown three sizes over night. 

Sans slowly sat up without opening his eyes, his body feeling heavier than usual. He grunted when he finally set himself upright, back leaning against the wall. Gosh, that was more of a work out than it should’ve been. Maybe he should start jogging with Papyrus?

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his skull before finally opening his eyes again despite the pain increasing as he did so. What he saw… wasn’t what he expected.

Instead of smooth, delicate bones, Sans saw rough scars and chips on his legs. That, and they were thick as  _ heck _ , it was ridiculous! His bones weren’t the only things different, either. No, his shorts were also discolored, and he was wearing way more black than he was used to.

Sans looked around the room, deciding to take stock on his situation. This was definitely not his room, what with all the dark colors and lack of mess. There wasn’t even the trash tornado Sans had worked so hard to make self sustaining.

A phone caught his eye, and Sans instantly picked it up from the desk so he could get access to the camera. 

The face he saw was definitely not his own.

There was a long crack running over his right eye, starting at the root of a golden tooth and ending just above his eye ridge. His teeth were practically fangs and his eyelights were red instead of their usual white. Not to mention the fact that once again, he was absolutely huge.

He took a few deep breaths, then switched over to text messages and typed in his number. Might as well get a gather on who could possibly be piloting his own body, if he was in this one.

 

**[Red Hot]:** hey… who’s this?

 

Okay, good enough for now even if it felt inadequate in terms of the situation. He shoved the phone in his pocket, then proceeded to rub at his eye sockets in a futile attempt to make his still raging headache go away.

Then the banging started, and Sans’ soul froze in panic. He wasn’t the only one in the house, and that meant he had to pretend to be whoever he was because he was taking residence in  _ their  _ body, even if he wasn’t there willingly.

“Red! Get your lazy ass down here  _ now! _ ” 

Okay so the guy was named Red, that was good to know. 

He took some deep breaths, breathing through the panic in his soul and the pain in his head. Let’s get this over with and see if he  _ doesn’t  _ screw up this guy’s life.

“Red! Now!”

Crud.

Sans slowly got up, grunting through the new wave of pain the movement caused. Gosh, this was going to be hell, wasn’t it? Oh well, the stars served him his plate, might as well suck it up and eat it.

“Uh… coming!” he shouted, wincing when his loud voice pierced his head. He made his way out of the room, every step causing a new wave of pain, though it grew more tolerable as he went.

Sans eyed the new skeleton as he made his way downstairs. He looked a lot like his own brother, being tall and lanky, with a thin face and uneven eyes. That was where the similarities stopped though. This new skeleton--oh crud, how was he going to figure out his name?--had sharper features. His teeth were fangs like his own, and his fingers were claws.

He also wore black and red, and he was tapping his foot impatiently as he watched Sans descend the stairs at a snail's pace.

“Red,” he spoke, voice stern with disapproval.

Sans hesitated before speaking, eye lights darting away nervously. 

“Y-Yeah bro?”

God he hoped he was right in guessing this skeleton’s relationship with the body he was wearing.

His eyes narrowed, fingers on his right hand tapping against the elbow of his left.

Sans started sweating, unable to meet the other skeleton’s gaze as he was stared down.

“You missed breakfast, why on Earth were you sleeping in so late?” he asked, making Sans swallow thickly.

Oh gosh, what was he gonna say? Was this guy normally someone who woke up early?

“Uh… late night?”

“Doing what?”

Sans panicked, looking around the room. Oh crap, he was screwed. Okay, think, what did he see in Red’s room?

“C… Cleaning?” he tried, finally looking at the other skeleton (who seemed to be Red’s bro since he didn’t comment on the sibling status). He saw the other’s mouth twitch a bit, but otherwise he just nodded.

“Very well. Since you missed breakfast, why don’t you sit down at the table while I make you some lunch?”

Sans sagged in relief and nodded, doing as the other skeleton asked. So far so good. The other skeleton didn’t seem to suspect anything, and he was even making him food, which was great because Sans was honestly starving.

Sans took out the phone in his pocket and started fiddling with it while he waited for Red’s brother to finish cooking. Red had some very… interesting texts. He knew he shouldn’t be snooping in a phone that wasn’t his, but it was there and Sans needed something to do with his hands while he waited.

It took almost an hour before a plate of… goo? was set in front of him. Goo that looked suspiciously like lasagna… And he was expected to eat this…

Sans looked up at the other skeleton skeptically, sweating when he saw him nod expectantly towards the plate. Stars this could barely be called  _ food _ … 

With a gulp, Sans picked up the fork Red’s brother had set next to the plate and took a bite. He nearly gagged at the taste of the lasagna. Stars, did he use  _ vinegar _ ?

“What’s wrong, Red? You love my cooking, right?” the skeleton asked, a smug smirk set firmly on his face.

Sans looked at him with watering eyes, forcing himself to swallow before  _ actually  _ gagging at the horrible taste.

“It’s uh… that’s…” Sans struggled to come up with the words before a realization hit him and he groaned.

“Oh gosh… you know, don’t you?”

The taller skeleton stared for a moment, making Sans shift uncomfortable in his seat--which he instantly regretted doing when his stomach roiled.

“In all my years I have never heard my brother say ‘gosh’,” he said, making Sans flush in embarrassment.

“Never really feel the need to cuss…”

The other skeleton snorted, making Sans sink in on himself.

“You are definitely not my brother. I’m Edge, and you are?”

Sans didn’t answer for a moment, concentrating on not puking. Edge just waited, seeming to understand his predicament. When the urge to vomit passed, Sans spoke up.

“‘M Sans, Sans the Skeleton,” he said, giving a cheeky smile before he nearly hurled onto the table.

Edge laughed again, moving around the table to help Sans stand up.

“Good to know. Let’s get you to the bathroom. You really didn’t have to swallow that, you know.”

Sans groaned, wiping away sweat from his forehead.  
“ _ Now _ you tell me.”


	2. Chapter 2

Red woke up for the first time that morning from the aggravating buzz of his phone on the nightstand. He had made a bit of an effort to reach for it and silence the damned thing, but just that small motion brought an overwhelming throbbing in the forefront of his skull and he immediately gave up, scrambling further under the comforter in hopes that sleep would take him again. 

The second time Red awoke, it was because he fell over the edge of a fucking cliff-- or at least, it felt like it. He had rolled over and attempted to spread himself out on his mattress, only to somehow overshoot it and launch himself off the side of the bed. He hit the floor like a sack of bricks, and groaned as the impact brought his raging headache back to life. 

“Fuck, that shit  _ hurt--”  _ Red paused, taking a few moments to gather his thoughts. That...that sounded funny.  _ He  _ sounded funny. He sounded  _ wrong.  _ Red scrambled to climb back up on the unusually small bed, growling in frustration when his fingers couldn’t catch on the blanket like they should have. He pulled his hand back to inspect it and felt his body run cold with shock. 

Where he normally had massive claws sharpened to fine points, he instead found dainty little hands, each finger tip smooth and rounded off. 

“Heh….heh heh….w-what the fuck,” he sputtered, hating the unnaturally high pitched quaver in his voice. Red continued to stare at his hands even as they began to shake, hoping that somehow looking at them hard enough would show him what he wanted to see. As his body shook, his head whipped around the room, finally looking at his surroundings. 

The room was a cluttered mess. Clothing and trash littered the floor and dresser, the closet doors hung open with a mess of random items strewn about inside, and the breeze from what looked like a  _ small tornado  _ in the corner of the bedroom wafted to him the somewhat stale smell that comes from a space not being exposed to an open window in a long while. A deep, calming blue color adorned the walls, similar to the blue of the hoodie that currently covered his body. 

His small, small,  _ small body.  _

“What the fuck...what the fuck! What the  _ fuck!  _ What the hell is going on!  _ Fuck!”  _ Red could feel hysteria rushing up on him, smothering him, drowning him. This wasn’t right. None of this was right. Just what the hell did he  _ do  _ last night? To his side, the phone on his nightstand buzzes again, and Red snaps his attention to it with dread. A trembling hand reached for the device and held it close, hating the way it was almost too big for his hands.  _ Too big. The only thing that ever used to be too big was his body (and maybe his bravado.)   _

  
  


**[Unknown]:** hey… who’s this?

 

Red felt his eye twitch upon reading the message from the unknown number--  _ his  _ phone number. He goes to answer the text, only to be stopped by a passcode lock.  _ Fuck! Seriously?  _

“Aw, c’mon, what does this asshole have to hide? Government secrets?  _ Nudes?”  _ Red snarled and tossed the object to his side, useless for the time being. He slid out of the bed, tugging uncomfortably at the clothes that seemed to smother his form, and shuffled across the carpet to the bedroom door. Judging from the silence of the house, nobody was home, but this guy clearly lived someone else-- hanging on the wall right across from his bedroom was a picture of two skeletons. There was the stranger whose body he was inhabiting, grinning bright at the camera and wearing a slightly ill fitting suit; beside him was a skeleton who looked a tad bit like his own brother, but clearly different in disposition. This skeleton was posing beside the stranger, a sparkle in his eye as he sported an impeccably cut bright orange suit. They appeared to be at some sort of wedding, and each looked to be just a little bit drunk. 

It was a nice picture. For some reason, it made his chest ache. 

Red slowly dragged himself down the hall towards the stairs, eyeing each picture he came across. The two sitting at some sort of cafe, clinking their cups together. Huddled before an elaborately decorated christmas tree, surrounded by gifts and twinkling lights. Sitting together on a grassy hill, faces lit up by what looked like fireworks, a sea of other monsters behind them, everyone bundled up in sweaters, ringing in the new year. 

By the time Red made it to the bottom of the stairs, his spine was tight and rigid, entire body tense and a sensation of anxiousness and sadness weighing heavy in his bones. This stranger had a family, a  _ brother _ like his own, and here he was invading his body and taking his whole life away from him. What the  _ hell  _ had he gotten himself into? What had he  _ done?  _

The door suddenly slammed open and Red jumped back with a shriek, tripping over himself and falling back into the wall behind him. The headache that he’d all but forgotten about reared its ugly head with a vengeance and Red whimpered, forgetting all about the previous commotion in favor of cradling his pounding skull. 

“Oh, my stars! What on Earth has gotten into you, brother? Are you alright down there?” Red peers up through watery eyes and finds the skeleton from the photographs standing over him, arms flitting nervously around his body as though afraid to touch him and make his pain worse. Red freezes, not making a sound as the skeleton finally hoists him from under his arms, holding him like a baby and turning him about to look for any injuries. 

“I mean, really, Sans! Only one HP and you’re just determined to lose it, aren’t you? You’ve never reacted like that to my delightful antics! What’s wrong?” 

Red stares up at the skeleton and says nothing. It was one thing to walk down the hall and observe the life of the stranger, but to actually be faced with the reality of it? To be spoken to as though he’s known this monster his entire life? Red is sadly unprepared. The skeleton gives a small disappointed huff and tucks Red under his arm, walking them over to the kitchen and plopping him onto the marble countertop like a doll. Everything about this situation is so ridiculous that he isn’t sure whether he should laugh or cry. 

“No worries, brother dear, the Great Papyrus knows just what to do! You must be in one of your little episodes again. Fear not! A meal made with love will perk you right back up!”  _ Papyrus,  _ Red ruminates,  _ his name is Papyrus.  _ Red watches Papyrus work, cringing as the skeleton clangs and clatters around the stove. He sees pasta sauce and noodles and is instantly reminded of his own brother, the worry like the prick of needles in his Soul. 

“Here,” Papyrus says, a note of satisfaction in his voice, presenting him with a plate absolutely overflowing with spaghetti and a fork thrusted into his palm. Red stares down at the plate for a few moments, then dares a glance back up at Papyrus. 

“I know there’s no meatballs, but I promise it still tastes as wonderful as always!” 

Red shrugs and digs in, savoring the taste and trying to ignore the way it reminds him of his own brother. Papyrus slides his bottom up onto the counter and sits beside him while he eats, and Red enjoys the small, comfortable silence that overtakes them. It’s the only bit of calm he’s felt since he woke up in this hell, and he milks it for all it’s worth, going so far as to lick the sauce off of the plate in an effort to prolong the moment. He hears a cough and jolts back to look at Papyrus, sweating at the confused look on the other’s face. 

Fuck, should he not have done that? Does he not normally do that? 

Before he can really sink back into a good old fashioned panic, Papyrus smiles warmly at him, placing a gloved hand on his shoulder. 

“You know what we could do that would really cheer you up? You and I could go on a run together!” Red bites his lip, trying to will away the sweat that began to bead along his forehead. 

“A run? L-like, go outside and run around? For- for fun?” Papyrus tightens the grip on Red’s shoulder and positively beams at him. 

“Yes, for fun! Oh, it would do you so much good, brother!” 

Fuck. He may not know whose body he’s in, but Red knows one thing for sure-- he was winded just from that trip down the stairs. There’s no  _ way  _ he could go on a run and keep up with this long legged ball of energy! But from the hopeful, expectant look in the taller skeleton’s eyes, Red can feel himself start to break. This must be something they do often, Papyrus and his brother. Why else would he ask him to run? Desperate to avoid raising any suspicion, Red mumbles out an agreement. 

Ten minutes later, as he’s gasping and wheezing his way towards the end of the street where Papyrus jogs patiently in place, Red finds himself wishing he had just confessed back at the house. He’s dripping with sweat beneath his hoodie, his legs started cramping five steps from the house, and he swears he can hear the sweet siren song of death calling to him from a few yards away. Or maybe that’s just the awful ringing in his skull that began about two minutes in. 

Either way, Red is in hell. 

“Come, brother! It’s just a bit further until we’re back at the house! You’re doing splendid!” Red calls out a warbling noise of affirmation, all vowels strung together pitifully in an effort to reply to his “brother.” Papyrus has already made his way into the house and is removing his exercise gear by the time Red crawls into the home, flinging his sneakers off and dropping to the floor the second the door is shut behind him. 

“Now then,” Papyrus calls pleasantly from the couch, “once you’ve caught your breath, I was hoping you could come over here to the couch and explain yourself.” Red pauses in his wheezing, ice running down his spine. He sits up and peeks over to the couch; Papyrus is seated on one side, smiling and patting the cushions beside him in a friendly manner. Red shakily climbs to his feet but remains where he is, nerves holding him in place. Papyrus just waits, nothing but pleasant smiles and open arms. 

“Explain...myself.” 

“Of course! Sans is much too used to my boisterous behavior to be so scared by me simply opening a door. Also, Sans always offers to split with me when I make one plate of food! Finally- and most importantly- my brother wouldn’t go on a run with me even if there were a million G at the finish line. Ergo, you must not be my brother!” Papyrus pats the cushion beside him one last time, and Red inches over to him slowly, entire body gone numb.    
“Now, one more time: explain yourself. Where, pray tell, is  _ my brother?” _


	3. Chapter 3

As soon as Sans reached the bathroom, he let himself heave into the toilet. Liquid magic spilled into the water, smelling foul with half digested lasagna.

“You know, usually when I see my brother spew his guts it’s because he’s hungover,” Edge commented, eliciting a groan from Sans.

“You’re a jerk, you know that right?” Sans asked, resting his cheek against the cold porcelain of the toilet bowl so he could look at Edge properly.

Edge snorted, leaning against the doorframe as he watched Sans jerk over the toilet to puke again.

“Yes well, in my defense you tried to pretend to be my brother and I just couldn’t have that.”

“What--hrk--what gave me away, anyway?”

Edge hummed in thought for a moment. “Well, first, my brother hasn’t called me ‘bro’ in years, always ‘Boss’ or ‘Edge’. Then you went and said you were up late  _ cleaning _ , and that is honestly the funniest thing I have ever heard my brother say, as well as the most bullshit lie.”

Sans groaned before dry heaving into the toilet. Well, at least the worst of it was over, now he just had to wait for his stomach to settle.

Edge shifted, seemingly uncomfortable suddenly. 

“Do you… know what happened to my brother?”

Sans took a few deep breaths to make sure he wasn’t about to throw up again before giving Edge a shrug.

“Pretty sure he’s in… he’s in my body. If that’s the case then he’s in good hands with my bro, though he’ll likely see right through him like you did me. Especially if he cusses on a regular basis, heh.”

Edge nodded, going silent as he went into thought. This development was… perplexing to say the least. It was good Red was usually lazy and didn’t leave the house unless he wanted to go drinking, but this was still an issue since Undyne was supposed to come over later in the week and hang out with the two of them. Would this even be solved by then? Or was Edge stuck with a new brother that wasn’t anything like his own?

Sans finally leaned away from the toilet when he hadn’t thrown up for a good five minutes. The smell of rotten magic making his, now empty, stomach roil.

He looked over at Edge, noticing the inquisitive frown on the other’s face.

“Wha’s eaten ya?” he asked, swiping his hand across his mouth and cringing when it came away wet. Time to wash his hands.

Edge looked at Sans in surprise, not used to anyone but his brother noticing when something was wrong. This one must be perceptive…

“Do you know how to fix this sudden… body switch?”

Sans shook his head, standing up and flushing the toilet before moving to the sink so he could wash his hands.

“No idea. I don’t even know how it happened in the first place. We’ll probably have to figure the why and how before we focus on the fixing part,” he explained, wiping his wet hands on his shorts to dry them.

Edge’s frown deepened, and he began to tap his fingers against his humerus as he went into thought once more.

Sans watched him, going into thought himself. How  _ did  _ this happen? Why did it happen? And, stars, how were they going to fix it? It was too many questions with no current way to answer them. Darn it, he needed Red to answer his stupid text…

Sans sighed and rubbed a hand over his skull, not knowing what to do next. Though… his mouth tasted nasty and his head was still killing him…

“Hey, Edge? Ya got any mouthwash? And painkillers?” he asked hopefully, bringing Edge out of his reverie.

Edge gestured towards the counter, bringing Sans’ attention to the green bottle of mouthwash sitting next to the sink. Sans chuckled at himself for not seeing it sooner and grabbed it so he could get the taste of vomit out of his mouth.

Edge left the room, and as soon as Sans was finished he followed after.

Sans followed him all the way to the kitchen, only to suddenly have a glass of water shoved into his hand and some pills dropped into his other when he held it out. He watched Edge curiously as he took the medicine, wondering why he was suddenly so aggressive.

“Did I uh… did I do somethin’?” he asked once he set the half empty glass down on the table.

Edge shrugged, not willing to say that he was honestly just pouting because he wanted  _ his  _ brother, not someone else in his brother’s body.

Sans heaved a sigh, sitting at the table again. Okay, so he was pouting, he could understand that. Maybe…

“Tell me about your brother? What’s he like?”

Edge blinked, looking at Sans in suspicion.

“Why do you want to know?” he asked, cynicism edging his tone.

Sans shrugged. “Well I’m in his body, may as well know what he’s like. Besides, you seem to already miss him, must mean you two are close right? So I’m curious.”

Edge hesitated at that answer, not looking at Sans for a moment while he debated on answering him.

“He’s… very lazy. Kind of a drunk, but not so much so that it could be considered an addiction. Red likes to get into fights too, considers himself too big to get hurt. Which is bullshit in case you couldn’t tell from all the scars,” Edge said, nodding towards Sans, who looked down at himself--at Red’s body covered in chips and scars.

“Heh, yeah, he seems pretty reckless if this is body.”

Edge nodded, leaning against the counter behind him.

“You mentioned a brother, what’s he like?” Edge asked, wanting to change the subject from his own family, though he hadn’t expected his eyelights to turn into  _ literal stars _ .

“What the fuck?” Edge interrupted Sans before he could even start.

The stars faded and Sans gave Edge a confused look. “What?”

“The… the stars! What the fuck was up with that?”

“You mean my eyelights? They always change when I feel strongly about something, why, does Red not do that?”

Edge shook his head, totally baffled by this discovery.

“You uh… still wanna hear about Paps?” Sans asked, shifting uncomfortably in his seat at the befuddled stare.

Edge didn’t answer for a second before nodding. “Y… Yes I do, please go on.”

The stars in Sans’ eyes returned and he grinned, Edge now recognizing the fond love in the others expression.

“Papyrus is  _ great _ ,” Sans started, “he’s so full of energy and goodwill. He goes on these morning jogs to start the day and he always makes way too much food and serves me these huge servings so that I’ll share with him. His favorite food is this dinosaur oatmeal and he loves helping people. He helps kids in the foster care system, makes sure they get good homes. He’s so good at his job, I’m so proud of him.”

Edge watched Sans talk about his brother, wondering if Red had ever talked about him with so much open love and affection, though he seriously doubted it.

“Paps is even the reason I have a pass… code…” Sans trailed off, blinking as something occurred to him.

He slapped his hand to his forehead, letting his hand droop to rub across his face as he groaned.

“Gosh darn it, I forgot I have a passcode on my stupid phone, no wonder he hasn’t texted me back.”

Edge raised an eyeridge at that. “How could you forget that?”

Sans shrugged. “I’m so used to it that it’s like a non-action when I type it in. Alright, I need to go grab his phone and call him.”

Edge nodded in acknowledgment, watching as Sans pulled out Red’s phone and fiddled with it before bringing it to his cranium as it rang.

“Hey, this is Sans speaking. I’m hoping this is Red?”


End file.
